Epitaph
by Ryetsei
Summary: At first that world seemed so full of hope; yet how quickly the unyielding hand of death cast away those naive illusions. Before the end, Uzumaki Naruto would come to know death as his greatest friend, his only solace. NaruSaku, NaruHina, NaruTen
1. Chapter One: Avenger

_Disclaimer: I am not responsible for the creation of any characters, locales, techniques herein; they are the intellectual property of Masashi Kishimoto._

Silence. There was so rarely an opportunity to lie about as he was now, half-awake and still in bed, and appreciate the subtle beauty in the lack of sound. Yet for the first time in a long time, here he was; enveloped in early morning's tranquility. It was unlikely he would ever have such an opportunity again, he thought, things being as they were. Simply thinking about the state of affairs caused a contortion deep in the pit of his stomach. He brushed his hand against his blanket, not much more than a thin, woolen rag torn and discolored by time. He hadn't changed it in almost five years, maybe longer… He had stopped tracking the passage of time too long ago to remember. No calendar adorned his wall, no clock. The thought of a schedule repulsed him. It brought back more memories than he was willing to face today; his demons were a tad more literal than most people's. If he was being honest, the blanket served to calm his nerves more than it did warm his nights. The roughness of the threadbare, the shape of each small tear, the single thread that had begun to come undone, that tickled his shoulder as he drew it over his body. It was familiar; it was the only thing left that hadn't gone, or hadn't been warped to almost complete unfamiliarity.

Everything was gone, he thought as he sat up, the blanket slumping over his half-naked body. Quickly ruffling his blond hair, a loud yawn overcame him, shooting a tremor through his newly awakened joints. He decided to let the experience run its course, to let the tingling sensation creep through every one of his muscles and fill them with the morning sun's fire, the day's strength. Yet the only light that met the boy's eyes was the tiny ray that illuminated his floor from between his curtains, fully drawn. He preferred the darkness when he was alone, preferring the numbness it brought over him to the revelatory nature of natural light. It was small things like this - the darkness, the blanket - that had kept him sane the past few years. Though some would argue that he could hardly be called 'sane.' Human, maybe, was a better word. It had kept him human. As much as the morning invigorated him, in mind as well as body, he cared not to see that which he knew it would show him. Outside there lay nothing but the results of his actions, the culmination of his adolescent life. His countless failures, his inability to change any of the things he had set out to. Walking over to the mirror, his gaze was cold as he examined the state of his body. Scars riddled his chest, his arms, his cheeks…every battle had left him with some kind of mark. He couldn't allow himself to forget a single one. Letting out a deep breath, he reached down for the sink. The water spilled forth from the tap and over his hand, as he waited for it to warm. Then, cupping two hands together, he brought the liquid unto his face and splashed it upon himself. For but a second it scalded his skin, before he became accustomed to it completely.

The water trickled down his neck, lukewarm by the time it had reached his shoulder-blade. He couldn't help but appreciate how quickly the human body could adapt to pain. As he drew his hands back from his face, he took yet another deep breathe. He chuckled. The human body was very intuitive when it needed to be. Struggling to keep him breathing when it knew that at any second, he could simply stop and think nothing of it. Wouldn't that be easier, too, he thought as with face still dripping he returned to his bed and sat down. From his bedside table there came a very faint glimmer, where the light from between his curtains became affixed on a small knife. Shorter than his forearm, perhaps half its size or so, a small hole at the end of its grip strung to a simple string of twine. His eyes hovered for some time before he picked it up, feeling along the blade for every chip. This is where it all began, he thought, with no more than a knife and a promise.

Tightening his grip upon the clothbound handle, he threw the blade into the wall opposite his bed. It stuck, inches away from the mirror he'd just peered into, the twine hanging down loosely. It was this room, this bed, that mirror, that knife, that day… In many ways it felt as though he was waking up the next day, bloodied and battered, waiting for the end to wash over him. He often wished that the end had come then, before the meaning of it all had really sunk in. Before the emotions had come to conquer his mind, before they had driven him to the lengths they did. Lowering his head, his entire body began to shiver. His powerful musculature trembled in the blackness, still without a sound, without a single word from inside or out. He looked down at his hands, his palms, the tools with which he had thought to conquer fate. In five years they had conquered nothing. They had simply come to know the world as it truly was: a world without heroes, a world where strength of spirit, where hope and fate and happy endings were crushed beneath the heels of war. As the first tears began to flow, he broke the silence:

"Why did you have to die… Sasuke…" his voice cracked as he uttered the name. It had been years since he'd spoken the name of his old friend, his greatest friend and eternal rival. Yet he had never for a second forgotten him. He was every scar, every battle that he had fought from that day; he was the reason they called Uzumaki Naruto a hero.

This was a farce, of course, him being a hero. He resented the title more than anything. The villagers insisted on thanking him, on congratulating him for his vast list of achievements and he could not for one second stand it. Where had they been, he asked, when a team of three genin were dispatched on a B-rank mission to the Land of Waves, where were they when an enemy jinchuuriki slaughtered their sons and daughters during the chunin exams, where were the villagers when their greatest enemy slew their hokage? Where were the villagers when war had set ablaze their hopes and ambitions, silencing an entire generation of shinobi. Uzumaki Naruto was no hero, he thought as he pulled on a pair of pants. The cloth was some shade of navy blue, standard Konoha attire. He then bound his right thigh in a white cloth, before tying a small pouch filled with kunai and shuriken of various make, well within reach in case of an emergency. Reaching for the floor, he removed the olive vest from the spot he'd cast it off the night before and slung it on atop his shirt, not zipping it up. From the same table he'd retrieved his kunai earlier he picked up his forehead protector, it too catching the faint strip of light emanating from the window. Tying it around his forehead, he drew the material as tightly as he could behind his head before knotting it. Finally he stood up, walked across the room and withdrew his kunai from the wall. Bending his head forward, he placed the twine around his neck. When he let go, the kunai hung down upon his sternum as a pendant. The knife, the promise, the scars, the battles; the memories…they never left him. They would never leave him.

Even in death, he thought, memory endures. His departure wouldn't make a difference to the villagers. They would mourn his passing, the passing of one of history's favored. But when they weep, would they truly weep for Uzumaki Naruto? No. They would weep for the disciple of Sannin, successor to the fourth hokage, the hero that saved Konohagakure countless times over. They would not weep for the boy who watched as his friends' lives were stolen away, for the Naruto who killed until there were none left to fight, who devoted his life to the protection of the people he cared about and who failed to save even one of them. The villagers would honor a great man, who conquered adversity at every turn in order to save the world, to create a better way of life for the people. They would weep for a man who had never existed. Still teary-eyed, Naruto gripped the kunai tied around his neck once more. Slowly, he positioned it just above his heart, holding the blade tightly to his skin. He pushed inward. He couldn't help but marvel at how quickly his skin gave, how easily the steel pierced his chest when he willed it to: this was no different than any of the other times…pulling downward, the blade trailed effortlessly across his body. Down to his stomach, where the five element seal still remained, as though he was writing one half of the letter 'x' upon himself. Though the cut wasn't deep, blood began to flow quickly from his wound. Yet it didn't hurt. Not one bit. He flipped the kunai in his hand, and pressed it against his throat. This was the last scar, the last harm he would ever inflict. It was the last remnant of his violent legacy, of his quest for his friend's salvation. The end of the path he had undertaken years ago under the threat of a knife, the path he had sworn for his friends in a promise, the path that left him alone to bear the past and its scars, the path that saw him endure the most horrific of battles, the path of endless painful memories. The path of the man with nothing left to lose.

"I… am an avenger."


	2. Chapter Two: Demon

_Disclaimer: I am not responsible for the creation of any characters, locales, techniques herein; they are the intellectual property of Masashi Kishimoto._

It was all so simple once. At least, he remembered it all being simple enough. The villagers despised him, but at least he knew where he stood. It wasn't as hard to tolerate an unfamiliar face twisted by rage, warped by an unimaginable hatred, as it was that of a friend. It was only when he truly came to know them, when for the first time he came to care for someone outside himself, that he was utterly destroyed by them.

But that all made it sound as though it was someone else's fault. He had long since come to accept—was accept the right word? No. He had long since realized that if there was to be blame at all that it should fall squarely into the lap of the boy from whom everything had sprung. From that boy, once so innocent, blissfully blind to the world around him. The fault lay with the boy too naïve to look past the illusion, to look at the world past himself. It lay with a child who was unable to see past his foolish dreams and aspirations, past the promise of honor and the lie of the 'shinobi.' It lay with a mere babe, not a warrior.

"Two down." The voice was low, gravelly. Naruto was frozen, his fear visible in the whites of his eyes. All he could see was the glint of a rusted chain, the unmistakable clang of metal upon metal as he spun on his heel. Two men, bent almost double rushing toward him. There was no time, not even to shut his eyes. His hand brushed against the pouch bound to his thigh, grasping blindly for something. Anything. He flicked the buckle open just as he felt the cold steel tear through the skin of his hand. His mouth was agape. He had never felt such searing pain in his life. Not even Mizuki's fuuma had paralyzed him so. His pupils locked with those of his assailant: he could see the sick pleasure behind them, the suggestion of a gruesome smirk behind his mask. He didn't even have time to accept what was he was seeing, what he was feeling, when the claw was suddenly torn from his body. The man's eyes, previously so fearsome, mirrored Naruto's own as he and his partner were thrown backward. Sasuke landed just in front of him not a second later. Seeing the smirk on his face was almost worse than seeing his attacker's.

"Sir, get back!" he heard Sakura yell. He and Sasuke turned almost in unison. The two shinobi had discarded the chain they'd used to subdue Kakashi. That they had used to kill him… A tremor shot through his body. The pair they faced had already killed their sensei, an elite jounin. In an instant the hope Sasuke's attack had so briefly inspired was gone. They'd just graduated the academy; what use were three children against hardened assassins? He heard Sasuke grit his teeth before disappearing, leaving nothing more than a flicker, yet he could not move. He had felt fear before. That much he knew. Yet this was so different, so feral, all-encompassing. What was this…? It conquered him completely.

He felt himself withdrawing, waiting for death. His powerlessness was his everything; through it he could perceive nothing of the outside world. This was the life of a shinobi. Naruto fell to his knees. The edges of his vision began to blur, to fade into darkness, leaving nothing but the image of the kiri-nin burned upon his retina. He was far past the point of certainty now; yet acceptance still alluded him. He could feel tears beginning to well up in his eyes. His cheeks began to burn, but he knew he wasn't crying yet. A low growl began deep within his throat, he could feel his hair standing on end. Now it was his attacker who seemed frozen. Something had changed within Naruto. Before he could act on his opponent's moment of weakness, however, it was all over. Nothing remained but a swath of white.

"You alright, scaredy cat?" came Sasuke's voice, high and mighty as ever. Knowing he had no right to respond to his teammates' accusation, being as he'd hardly moved during their inaugural battle as team seven, Naruto's simply grimaced and bore the insult. He'd barely clenched his fist when the voice of his sensei stopped him.

"Save it for later, Naruto," Kakashi said, "their claws were soaked in poison." Of course they were. Not only had he not even thrown a punch during the fight, but he was about to be killed by a wound that barely amounted to a scratch. This was to be the legacy of the Uzumaki clan. More than anything, Naruto was infuriated. How were the others able to act so quickly, so fearlessly, in the face of such terrible enemies? Surely they feared death as much as he. He heard Kakashi begin to speak again, congratulating Sasuke and Sakura most likely, and he turned away. He was undeserving of their praise, he knew. But that hadn't been what he'd wanted. He had never cared for kind words, for praise. For so long he had sought the opposite, to be reprimanded. So long as it was attention… He cringed. Was that his destiny, to seek attention? Not to fight, not to win glory nor to help those who truly required it, but to be eternally reprimanded: eternally a child, scolded by his mother for misbehavior. He closed his eyes. In a flash he drew a kunai from his pouch, raised it above his head. One deep breath, and he plunged the blade through his already wounded hand. He could feel the tip pass through the center of his palm, through nerve and muscle, through poison and blood.

"Naruto, what are you doing?" that was Sakura. Of course she didn't understand. The hours he'd spent trying to master the most basic jutsu, the years just trying to pass through the academy. It was pathetic; worse than pathetic. But never again, never again would he let himself be saved. Never again would he be afraid, would he run away. Never again would he lose, to Sasuke or to anyone.

"I swear on this pain in my left hand," Naruto began, "and on this kunai, I will protect the old man." His grimace gave way to a great grin. Finally there was a fire of determination behind those eyes, a blaze brilliant enough to stave off death himself.

"We should see the bridge soon." Came the voice of their escort, just behind Naruto. They had cut off the engine just moments before. After their encounter with the Demon brothers, they had decided to err more on the side of caution while attempting to enter the Wave Country. They had waited for the country's famed mists to roll over the waters before departing the shore. As they neared the bridge, the only noise for miles around was that of their single paddle, cutting softly through the still water. Naruto's eyes wandered across the dark surface, searching for anything, any sign of life. Yet the mist shrouded all reflection from his gaze. The water held nothing but a foreboding promise of things to come. He squinted, sifting through the blacks and grays, searching for anything of consequence. Within a few seconds, his mouth was agape in wonder. The great bridge was no more than ten feet from the group's vessel. Great pillars of stone emerged from the deep, wider even than his outstretched arms. Hewn stone from top to bottom, steel support beams still protruding from the upper portion.

"Wow! It's huge!" Naruto exclaimed, practically throwing himself over the side of the boat. He'd just wanted a closer look, any chance to be closer to such a wondrous feat of architecture. A road simple in appearance, yet marvelous in its defiance of nature, it was a road that could traverse even the Great Sea. Just as he sought to grasp the structure in all its majesty, however, a tight grip on his shoulder removed the young yellow-haired shinobi from his fantasy.

"Be quiet," said the ferryman at the rear, "why do you think we're hiding in this mist? We'll be in a world of trouble if Gatou finds us." That was enough reason for Naruto. Turning to look back at the others, Kakashi appeared to be giving him a reassuring smile. It was so difficult to tell, what with his mask. As their gaze met, the jounin removed his hand from his student's shoulder, and he seemed to return to the world of his daydreams. Admittedly, Naruto could not even imagine what he was thinking, as he didn't much understand their current predicament.

If only he had realized then what they had been up against, perhaps he could have bettered himself. At the very least, prepared himself for the all-but-certain eventuality of fighting shinobi far more powerful than himself. Had Naruto realized then that Kakashi was planning to continue the mission with the knowledge that they would have to do battle against Gatou's company of men, but against men renowned for their ability to murder, perhaps he would have seen the truth long before it was branded upon his mind. If only he'd had the chance to understand the nature of those men, the nature of the reality he inhabited, before it became his only reality: the world of mercenaries and murderers, of assailants and assassins the world collectively called shinobi. It was a world whose every inhabitant was doomed to die. Naruto bit his lip as the razor edge of his kunai bit through the yielding skin of his throat. His hand wavered. He could not escape from that world. He had given into it; he had welcomed the state of the world as a blessing. For only in this world could he pass sentence upon the rampant injustice around him. Only here could he visit the same pains upon them as he had suffered for so long. He knew of course that it could never bring them back, that it could never justify the actions he'd taken for the lost. He knew that not even once had it made him forget. Least of all had it made him remember with any less clarity the events of that firs day in Wave Country with any less than crystal clarity.

Cowering on the ground, Naruto had not even the chance to search the surroundings for the group's attacker before he spoke.

"You appear to be Sharingan Kakashi." He'd said. His voice was low, gravelly, bearing an edge that boasted of countless battles. Before he could even look up, Naruto had known him to be a truly fearsome opponent. "I'm sorry, but the old man is mine." Following the voice upward, he eventually found him perched upon a gargantuan blade. Was that what he'd thrown? Just before he'd announced himself they'd all ducked under some sort of an attack. But to throw a blade so large…surely it was taller than the man himself, yet he had thrown it faster than the newly appointed genin could even follow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sasuke reach for his shuriken. Once again, they had been forced into battle without an inkling of who this man was, where he'd come from. Naruto could barely stand straight. This time, though, he wouldn't allow Sasuke to steal the glory. He couldn't stand by and let the others down all over again. Digging his toes into the ground, he prepared to leap at their attacker while his sword remained lodged in the tree. If he could just get close enough while he was still unarmed…yet for the second time that day, he felt Kakashi's hand upon him.

"Well, well. If it isn't Kirigakure's missing-nin, Momochi Zabuza-kun." He said. His arm was outstretched, blocking Naruto's passage. Zabuza had not budged. As he looked toward his sensei, the nature of their encounter became clear. "Everybody get back; this one's on a whole other level." He lowered his arm. Yet he took up no stance. Instead he reached slowly for the headband covering his left eye, as though he were about to remove it. Was that the secret of his face, perhaps? Was the sharingan a technique too gruesome to be revealed in the light of day? Naruto did not know whom he feared more, for a moment. Not until he noticed Sasuke, glaring with some intensity at their sensei. Perhaps he knew the nature of this renowned technique. "Surround and protect Tazuna-san. Do not enter the fight." He slid the headband upward so that it properly covered his forehead, in the same fashion Naruto and Sasuke wore theirs. As his hand drifted away, Naruto finally saw it. The impenetrably deep crimson; this was the sharingan.

"The eyes with the ability to read and defeat all types of genjutsu, taijutsu and ninjutsu…" He heard Sasuke say. Turning toward his teammate again, his expression was palpable. Fear had finally weaseled its way into his mind. Even the boy who had fought so valiantly mere hours before was nothing before this new evil. "That's not the only ability it has, either." Such a monstrous technique… Was this the same man who so casually read through their group's entire training session? He had never seemed so fearsome back in the village, back where everything had been so safe. They had been so protected… A slow chuckle broke Naruto from his train of thought.

"What's even scarier is its ability to copy any technique it sees." Zabuza said. As he spoke, he folded his arms across his chest. Was he truly unafraid of such an ability? What did this man have that they did not? The answer was plain as day, yet Naruto could not see past his awe over the revelation of the sharingan. "There was information on you in our bingo book when I was a member of Kirigakure's assassin team," he continued, staring directly into the endless depth of the eye, "the man who has copied over one thousand jutsu, 'Copy Ninja' Kakashi. I must defeat you first!" Upon his last words, all three genin sprung to action. Within seconds they had drawn kunai and taken positions around Tazuna. The triangle formation… just like they'd practiced. By the time they looked back at the Kiri-nin, however, he had disappeared. "Suiton: Kirigakure no jutsu."

The mist began to roll in. Yet there was no wind, surely it was not blowing in from the nearby sea. No… this was Zabuza's technique. Completely occluding the world around them, it wasn't long at all before they couldn't even see the tree he'd stood on previously. Naruto could only hope that Kakashi's eyes were strong enough to pierce the veil of fog. His own were not up to the task. He gripped his kunai more tightly than before. More tightly perhaps than he had when stabbing himself earlier. There was no threat of death, then. He had thought it passed.

"Eight choices." the voice drew the whole group from their silence, each letting a gasp pass through their throat. All of them, this time, were trapped in the web of fear, the silent killing technique. "Liver, lungs, spine, clavicle, jugular, brain, kidneys, heart," with each word he could feel a blade plunging through that part of his body, "which one should I remove…?" He saw Sasuke begin to pour with sweat. Was this the first time he'd felt such fear? The first time he'd ever been unsure of himself? Surely not, surely the class favorite had not failed to learn a lesson before the village-renowned failure; he couldn't process it. Worse, in their predicament he couldn't even enjoy it.

"Sasuke," Kakashi said, "don't worry, I'll protect you guys even if it kills me. I don't let my comrades die." He was smiling. Somehow, in the midst of a truly fearsome battle, their sensei was smiling. He hadn't known how to react then, yet how soon he would come to know. The controlling of emotion, forcing oneself to forget or to kill every impulse in the name of rationality would become all too familiar. This was the truth of heroes; they were just like the petty thieves and killers. Looking past the obvious for what they considered the greater good: survival.

"We'll see about that!" This time, the voice was directly behind Naruto. He could feel the hunger of the great blade before turning to see it there, inches from Tazuna. Everything that happened from that point was almost too fast to register. Kakashi was upon the attacker before he had readied his blade to attack, only for him to disappear, his body bursting into a small swath of water. In a flash there was a second one, behind Kakashi. Had the first been just a clone?

"Sensei! Behind you!" Naruto cried. Not quickly enough. The steel cut Kakashi down without resistance, separating his body cleanly into halves. Yet these too disappeared with a splash.

"Don't move; it's over." The words brought relief. Against such an opponent, such a strategy, their sensei had prevailed without so much as breaking a sweat. This was the power of his sharingan. Again, though, his words were met with a deep, resounding chuckle from the enemy.

"I'm not that easy…!" Zabuza replied coolly, even with a kunai to his neck. As his body burst into water a second time, what Naruto could only hope was the real enemy swept his blade at Kakashi, once again aiming to bisect him completely. This man was ruthless, truly, leaving no room for error in his attacks. Every strike was perfectly calculated to kill. He saw their sensei duck the first strike, but it was clear that he'd been caught off balance. With a quick spin Zabuza delivered a straight kick that knocked him back into the water they'd just crossed to arrive in Wave Country. By the time he surfaced, their opponent was upon him with one arm extended, palm open. "Suiton: Suiro no jutsu!" A sphere of water rose amidst the rest, separating itself completely from the sea. Uprooting Kakashi with ease, he was trapped completely hovering no more than a foot above the surface. "Now, Kakashi, we can finish things later. First, I'll take care of them."

Naruto's heart stopped. He could see in his sensei's eyes that Zabuza had truly outmaneuvered him, had completely neutralized him in a manner of seconds. It was just the three of them left now; himself, Sasuke and Sakura, three babes barely removed from the cribs they'd inhabited their entire lives.

"Wearing those headbands and acting like ninjas… A true shinobi is a man who has survived innumerable brushes with death." Came Zabuza's voice, accompanied once again by his haunting chuckle. Would that be the last sound to greet their ears before passing on? Naruto could hardly distract himself from the fact that it probably would be. In the past few minutes, he had experienced fear to a degree no child should have to. At twelve he was a veteran of a covert war, not to mention it seemed he would soon be dead. Why hadn't they taught him about this in the academy, he wondered, why hadn't the instructors thought even once to warn everyone what they were getting into? This was simply another test to them, another game: it was all a question of how fast he could overcome fear. A kick faster than he could follow struck him across the battlefield, knocking his headband clean off. He thought he heard Sakura cry for him, but the ringing in his ears drowned out even the impact he made upon colliding with hard soil and rock. "You are not ninjas." Was that Zabuza's voice or his own? He could barely distinguish. Either way, he thought, it was true. He wasn't even acting like a shinobi, he definitely wasn't acting like a Hokage. He had sworn, hadn't he? He'd sworn to himself, on his pain, that he wouldn't run again. He wouldn't need to be saved ever again, he'd said, he wouldn't lose to anyone. Gritting his teeth, he clasped the arm he'd landed upon and stood up. His left hand still bandaged from the wound he'd inflicted upon himself, his body weak, he stood defiantly. Letting go of his arm, he looked up, meeting the gaze of another of Zabuza's clones standing atop his discarded headband. That headband… the one Iruka had given him, the gift from his mentor he'd received upon graduating the shinobi academy. He'd said it was a symbol; a symbol that its wearer was grown up, that he was mature, that he was ready. Naruto was only starting learn exactly what it was it meant to be that. To be grown up, to be ready for death himself, lurking just around the corner. He couldn't run from him anymore. He could only run toward it with open arms. As he charged forward, now literally as well as figuratively, he had only one thought in mind: to capture it with his own hands. The headband showed the others that he was mature, but for all his preaching he had yet to believe it himself. It had to be now, there was no time more fitting. The time for acceptance of his own Ninde, his own version of what they called maturity. It would be at that moment, or else it would never happen at all. Greeted with a second kick, greater than the last, he was flung back upon the ground beside his friends.

"Naruto, what are you thinking?" he heard Sakura ask, the worry clear in her voice. Before he might have seen it as being babied, as not being treated like a shinobi. Yet as he rubbed the cold steel of his headband against his thumb, he understood that she was truly concerned for him. They were shinobi now; they were a team. A smile on his face, Naruto stood. "We genin don't stand a chance against him!" Sakura pleaded again. Yet she didn't press him. As Naruto raised the headband up, it was as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Hey, you eyebrow-less freak," he said, tightening the fabric around his forehead, "put this in your handbook. The man who will one day become Hokage…" as he spoke, he could feel them all watching him. This time, he was the one in the spotlight. He was the one paving the way forward. "Uzumaki Naruto!"

"A lot of arrogance, but… do you stand a chance?" remarked Zabuza's water clone, almost playfully. This could play out in their favor, Naruto thought: their enemy was, as always, underestimating them. Even Kakashi was bellowing at them now, to run, to escape with Tazuna and run as far as they were able. Yet in every fiber of his being, the spiky-headed shinobi knew victory was within their grasp. Turning back for but a moment he caught Tazuna's eye, steeled with the very same resolve. Now they would protect Kakashi-sensei, too.

"I'm sorry, guys. Fight as much as you want!" the bridge builder roared. First a gleam in their eyes, then a confident grin swept the faces of team seven. Even Sasuke's usual sneer was gone, melted away beneath the promise of battle. With nothing more than a few words, however, this feeling too was made all too temporary.

"You have to escape," Kakashi said, rushing his words, "he is the Demon! The Demon of Kirigakure!" The Demon… in the world of shinobi, of warriors beyond compare, to obtain a title such as 'Demon' was oft enough to give one pause. Amongst the thieves, soldiers, murderers that riddled the world, for one to be called truly demonic caused the cracks of doubt to reestablish themselves in the genin of team seven. What kind of man were they fighting against? The answers would come all too soon. "Long ago in Kirigakure, also called the 'Blood Mist' village, there was a final obstacle in becoming shinobi. An exam…" Here their sensei seemed to struggle for words. For all he had seen, all he had experienced in his own right, there was such evil in the world... Seeing this, Naruto knew the next sound to break the silence would be fearsome beyond any he had known. Yet his mind wandered on, begging the answer Kakashi would not give. What brand of evil must he have seen, what sort of exam could birth a Demon?

"Fights to the death between students."

Naruto's jaw tightened. He had to bite down hard, grind his teeth together just to keep himself from yelling. The thought of having to strike down a fellow student, more than likely a friend, completely paralyzed him. The thought of having to fight against Sakura or Sasuke, against Shikamaru or Kiba! Even the ones who'd ignored him completely, he'd at least known. To cut one down, to end their life simply to become shinobi… was that the kind of existence he was destined for? Was there no honor at all in this bloodstained world?

"Ten years ago, the Kirigakure graduation exam was forced to change," Kakashi continued, "after the previous year, when a Demon appeared." His arms began shivering. He could disguise it at first, but the more he learned seemed only to urge it onward until the urge was uncontrollable. But he couldn't run; he had made a promise. "Without pause, or hesitation, a young boy who was not even a ninja killed over a hundred of the students." Naruto could barely hear now, over the thunderous pumping of his own heart. His gaze shifted from Kakashi to Zabuza, who seemed enthralled by their sensei's tale. As though he were moved by it. When he stared back at them, he bore the eyes of the Devil himself.

"That sure was… fun." He mused. Naruto stepped backward, ready to turn now and escape. He heard Sasuke gasp behind him. This was too much, he had to leave, had to live… Before he could even turn fully, though, he heard a grunt of pain from his teammate. The water clone had struck Sasuke when they'd panicked. Before he could even react the false Zabuza attacked again, driving him into the ground with his bare fist.

"Sasuke!" he heard Sakura shout. He had to think of a plan; something, anything! Yet he could only watch as the Demon placed his foot on Sasuke's neck. He didn't have enough time, enough options, but he had to try something…

"Kage Bunshin no jutsu!" Naruto yelled. In a swath of smoke, the field was suddenly saturated with hundreds of shadow clones. Zabuza's clone did not appear altogether bothered, it simply drew the great blade from its resting place upon his back. "Here I go!" In perfect synchronization, the clones drew kunai and leaped upon their opponent's position. Attacking from all around him at once. Zabuza deftly stepped forward and prepared his sword to block the incoming clones, but this was within Naruto's plan. In countering, his opponent was forced to surrender his chokehold on Sasuke. Plunging his kunai forward, there was surely no way all of them could miss. Yet they were met with the resounding ring of steel upon steel. With inhuman strength, Zabuza wheeled his sword about in a full circle, either slicing or throwing back Naruto's entire force. Gritting his teeth, the real Naruto was sent skidding away. With some effort however, he was able to reach into his bag and retrieve a large blade, sharper than a razor's edge. Gripping it tightly, he turned toward his recently freed teammate. "Sasuke!"

With a quick jerk of his arm, Naruto tossed the blade just over Sasuke's head. Extending his arm upward, he was able to leap just in the nick of time, catching it at the cost of his footing. As his teammate skidded backward, Naruto could only hope he understood the true meaning of the tool. At best, they had one shot to survive. That they had retained their lives this long was miraculous in itself. In a flash of blue, however, he could smile once more. His plan was fully in motion.

"Demon Wind Shuriken!" he said, the truth of Naruto's blade now revealed. The blade was not one but four, a giant windmill shuriken. Grinning, he brought his hand onto the steel of his headband, adjusting it ever so slightly. Whether it was plain nerves or a genuine arrogance driving his subtle taunt, he knew not. Perhaps it was both, he mused: fear of death that would result from their plan's failure, balanced with the promise of victory should their deception prove successful. This was the moment; their moment. Team seven stood together against an insurmountable opponent… and overcame. Swifter than he could see within the corner of his eye, Sasuke planted his foot deep in the plain and leapt high into the air. With a loud cry he heaved the windmill at Zabuza's water clone, head-on. Yet the Demon remained, as expected, unshaken by the display.

"A shuriken won't work against me." He scoffed, his right hand moving for the hilt of his Kubikiri Houchou. Just as the shuriken came within his range, however, it suddenly swung around the clone. He couldn't contain his smile any longer; it was going to work. Clenching his fist tightly around a kunai, Naruto watched on. "That's not enough!" The real one snatched the shuriken by the ring in the center, completely stopping it before impact. When he snatched it aside however, the second caught his eye all too quickly.

"The Kage Shuriken no jutsu!" Kakashi remarked, astonished. Yet the second trailed too far behind the first. With a deep grunt, Zabuza leaped off the surface of the water, directly overtop of the genins' attack. From where he stood, Naruto could hear Sakura begin to choke up. To give up. When in that moment, the second shuriken was obscured by a puff of smoke. Naruto had appeared behind Zabuza. It was now, he thought; the comeback.

His index finger slid up the handle of his kunai as he drew his arm back across his chest, slinging the small knife directly at Zabuza's bestial eyes. They had done it, achieved their victory! All that remained now was the mopping up. Roaring with fury, Zabuza spun away from Naruto's attack and across the small surface of water he'd been standing upon. The veins in his eyes appeared a deep crimson even from the spiky-haired shinobi's distance. More alarming however was the Kiri-nin's readying of the demon wind shuriken for a counterattack: Naruto was still caught defenseless in midair, unable to walk on water. All he could do in that moment, falling slowly, was wait. Wait, and trust his sensei's words from before: 'I don't let my comrades die.' With a resounding ring of steel upon steel, he was able to plunge beneath the surface confident. Their threefold deception had paid off. When he surfaced again, his gaze was met with their white-haired sensei, freed from the prison of the Suiro no jutsu.

"Heh," Zabuza began, "looks like I got distracted and released the jutsu." His body still, he did not compete against Kakashi in strength. The demon wind shuriken meant for Naruto barely broken Kakashi's skin. The steel band on the back of his glove halted the brunt of the force.

"Wrong." The white-haired sensei replied. "You didn't release it. You were forced to release it." Zabuza's eyes grew narrow. Though he had no eyebrows to speak of, they would unquestionably be furrowed had they been present. His arm flexed once, attempting unsuccessfully to drive the shuriken further into Kakashi's hand. It was to no avail. In a flash, both jounin had leaped away from each other and each begun a rapid series of hand symbols. Both ended with the Bird.

"Suiton: Suiryudan no jutsu!" both men yelled in unison. In an instant, great eddies spread through the still water beneath them, swirling and gathering about into great pillars that broke the surface of the water completely. These pillars, at first straight began to whorl unto themselves, twisting and coiling about with no aim. The top of each respective pillar formed into a great serpentine form, and with a resounding hiss smashed against one another viciously. The torrent of water that shot forth from their meeting was enough to blow the genin and Tazuna from their feet, the wind from the force of the clash alone forcing them to avert their eyes. Naruto was nearly carried away by the enormous current. In such a shallow body of water, to think that a shinobi could generate such massive killing force: it was incredible. And in the center of it all, surrounded by violent waters and chakras, stood the two combatants, blades met, struggling for a mere moment of supremacy.

In a flash, the two broke from one another. Two trained killers circling one another, making every attempt to open one another's guard. Or is that what was going on? Naruto strained to see. All at once, they both stopped. Both stood with their left arm raised above their head, their right in the middle of their respective ribcages. He looked to both of them for some sort of sign, and in Zabuza he found it. His eyes were stricken with white. This was different from before, from the insane eyes of a devil, this was something new. Kirigakure's Demon was experiencing fear. At the very same time, the two moved their left arms down in a half-circular sweep before once again beginning to form hand signs faster than the genin could follow. Words flew between the two, Zabuza growing ever more desparate all the while. Then suddenly, his hands seemed to freeze while Kakashi continued on. He saw his sensei's mask shift ever so slightly. He was smiling.

"Suiton!" Kakashi cried.

"What? Impossible!" Zabuza threw his head forward in disbelief; his opponent had beaten him with his own jutsu. As the ground around them began to shake, his eyes were fixed upon the spinning pinwheel of black in Kakashi's hellish red eye.

"Daibakufu no jutsu!" The entire lake was thrown forward, blasting Zabuza across the landscape. Naruto's yell was smothered by a great wave sweeping him away, the uncontrollable force of nature carrying his body away. He caught against a low bush, not too far from where he'd started, and so was able to gather his wits quickly. Snapping his head in the direction the water had pushed him, he spotted Zabuza pinned to a tree just a few meters away. As he righted himself, Naruto heard a grunt of pain from the Kiri-nin. When he looked up, Kakashi was standing over him already. Four kunai pinned his limbs to the thick bark of tree behind him.

"How…" he asked, ragged and defeated. "Can you see the future?" His voice was low, his energy truly trained from the Copy Ninja's assault.

"Yeah. You're going to die." Kakashi replied, coolly as ever. Before he could even move forward to finish their enemy, he was already correct. Two needles, not much thicker than chopsticks, plunged through Zabuza's neck.

"Hehe… you're right, he's dead."

Naruto turned. Behind them, hidden within the cover of the fog as well as by the foliage of the tree he stood perched upon. He wore a mask, a basic white with a single whip of red across the mouth and nose. The eyes were nothing more than slits. Otherwise his attire seemed rather normal, a dark yukata accented by a strangely patterned fabric in lighter blue. A scarf wrapped round his waist, and a traditional bun adorned his head. Whoever he was he appeared, for the moment, unarmed. His assessment was cut short by Kakashi's sudden disappearance; a Shunshin. He lay his hand upon the neck of their former opponent, searching for traces of life. After only a few seconds, he drew back. Had they slain the Demon…?

"Thank you very much," said the unknown figure, "we've been searching for the opportunity to kill Zabuza for a long time." He faced Kakashi when he spoke. Naruto realized it was likely very easy to discern who their leader was. Sasuke was removed from the current scene, along with Sakura, still guarding Tazuna. Only Naruto could say he'd truly had a good look at this new assailant.

"That mask," Kakashi finally replied, "you're one of Kirigakure's hunter-nin." For a moment, the masked man was silent.

"Impressive. You are correct, my duty is to hunt down the Missing-nin; I am a member of Kirigakure's hunting squad." A shinobi whose sole duty was to strike down fellow members of his village? The world seemed to grow more crazed the more he learned about it. In a split second, this man had killed a fighter as strong as Zabuza. He was a man nearly on par with their sensei, an elite Jounin of Konohagakure, the legendary Copy Ninja. How could anything they had learned in the academy have prepared them for such adversity…?

"A guy that strong was killed by a kid…" Naruto said to himself. Again he felt his jaw clenching, his teeth begin to grind against one another. They had worked hard to defeat Zabuza, hadn't they…? So why didn't he feel he'd accomplished anything? "By a kid not much different than me! We look stupid, now!" his rage compounded quickly, the emotions of the previous battle boiling over upon the hunter-nin who'd interrupted them. He swung his head toward Kakashi, shooting him an accusatory glare. "How am I supposed to understand that?" His sensei stepped away from their opponent's body, toward his knuckleheaded student.

"I know how you feel," he began, "but this is the truth. In this world, there exist kids younger than you…" here Kakashi paused to place his hand upon the back of Naruto's head, ruffling his blonde hair. He was beginning to resent that. "Yet stronger than me." Naruto grimaced. He knew this to be the case, but hearing it out loud didn't make him feel any better about it. He fumed, but did so in silence.

"Your battle is now over." Again, the masked man interjected. The voice was much closer this time, however, and when Naruto turned toward it he discovered the man had already hoisted Zabuza onto his shoulders. "Now I must dispose of this body, for it seems to hold may secrets. Farewell." With a faint gust of wind, scattering about some nearby leaves, he was gone. The sound of footsteps behind him told Naruto that Sasuke, Sakura and Tazuna had joined them.

"Now," their sensei said with a smile, "let's get Tazuna home."

Not far away, the masked man stood in a clearing, hovering over the unmoving body of Momochi Zabuza. A number of small tools lay splayed out beside him, prepared for the task ahead. It was never easy. Retrieving a sharpened pair of calipers from the set, his hand drifted over the cloth wrapped around the Demon's mouth.

"First I'll have to cut the cloth, drain some blood." He said. He always felt it prudent to go over one's mental checklist aloud. It kept one sane. At least, in so far as any of his actions could be taken as those of a sane, rational human being. His hand paused over his fellow Kiri-nin's face. The momentary pause was enough. Zabuza's arm shot upward, trapping the hunter-nin's wrist in an inescapably tight grip.

"That's alright… I'll do it myself!" yelled the swordsman, breath heavy. That was most likely from the pain, the masked man reflected. Some things were too much even for him. "You didn't have to use my neck," Zabuza continued, immediately confirming his compatriot's suspicions, "you could have aimed for a safer acupuncture point." Ripping the needles from his body, he stood as soon as he'd finished. He shook but once, before retaining his balance fully. His sword was planted in the ground at his side.

"You're right!" The masked one replied. He felt his partner shoot him a rather dirty glance, but it was not without warmth. He, being a prideful man, always did express himself in rather strange ways. Chuckling, he removed the mask from his face to reveal a radiant smile. He was a young boy, likely no older than Naruto and the others. Perhaps that was fitting. Brushing his long, black hair away from his eyes, he looked on attentively as his ally took his mighty sword in hand once again. "Next time, will you be alright?" He asked, already fully aware of the answer.

"Next time… I will defeat the sharingan."


	3. Chapter Three: The Calm

_Disclaimer: I am not responsible for the creation of any characters, locales, techniques herein; they are the intellectual property of Masashi Kishimoto._

Darkness had begun to cast its shroud over Nami no Kuni. As far as Naruto could tell, it wouldn't be more than an hour before the clearing was completely ensnared by night. He sat with legs flat on the ground, hands just behind his hips, propping himself up as best he could. His breath was heavy, but slow, his chest heaving with every exhalation. He could no longer hide the dry wheeze at the very back of his throat, nor could he muster enough spit to wet his tortured mouth. His senses were completely drowned out by the cries of his exhausted body. He could hardly hear Sasuke anymore, hard as he tried, though he knew his teammate was just as poor condition. The two had been training since before the morning sun had even reached its peak, when its rays had barely penetrated the thick foliage surrounding them. Naruto closed his eyes. For almost the whole week now, they had been coming here. Every morning, as soon as they were able to eat, the two departed from Tazuna's hut with all the haste they could muster. Sakura and Kakashi hadn't accompanied them since the first day, and as far as he could remember, that was the last day he'd said a word in the clearing. Even on the third morning, when he'd slept late and Sasuke left without him, the Uchiha hadn't said a word upon his arrival. He'd just grinned, not even looking in the right direction. He'd just gone right back to running up the tree, striving to leave his mark ever higher. Perhaps he didn't have to say anything, though. It was clear to Naruto what his grin meant: his competition had returned. Knowing that his fellow shinobi was finally acknowledging his growth was enough. He grinned right on back, returned to his tree, and readied the kunai in his left hand. They didn't have much longer to rest, assuming Kakashi's prediction to be true. If Zabuza was alive, they had to become stronger. In the back of their minds both of the genin knew this was the reason they were there. Their efforts were no longer for the sake of friendly competition, but for the sake of their lives. Not just their own, but each other's. That was why they had to keep coming. Today had to count for everyone: for team seven, for Inari, for all of Nami no Kuni.

"Mom… they are going to die." Inari had said, that very first time they'd met. When the group of them had first returned to Tazuna's house, when Kakashi had still been weak from abusing the sharingan in battle. Naruto's mouth drew into a frown. Those words had infuriated him then, he'd snapped at the kid. He couldn't have been much older than Konohamaru, and he'd really let him have it. Maybe he should have taken the words more seriously. Was it so long ago he felt death so close at hand? He had already forgotten the intense sensation of fighting against Zabuza, against the Demon Brothers. To have forgotten such a harrowing emotion… was that part of being a shinobi? Forcibly separating the horrors they faced in battle from their everyday lives, banishing the truth from their minds while wearing the guise of a smile. Surely people couldn't live in such a way; surely they would not doom themselves to such a fearsome existence. This was not the path of heroes, the path of the Hokage.

"I'm a hero… One day, I will become an incredible ninja called Hokage." Naruto muttered, echoing the exclamation he'd made to Inari. What the child had said in response still chilled him. He didn't know it then, how long the words would remain with him. When they were first uttered, he didn't even believe them. Back then he couldn't even make sense of such a statement. Opening his eyes, he raised his head to gaze at the mighty tree before him. Perhaps twenty meters up was a deep gash in the bark, atop countless others lower in the bark, each a physical record of the week's efforts. The ashen bark was littered with cracks where he'd applied too much chakra, as well as blood from a few minor scrapes. So he could prove wrong the words he couldn't stand to hear again.

"There's no such thing as a hero." Naruto's eyelids had rather suddenly began to grow heavy. He realized he must have been sitting down for quite a while, yet remained unable to catch his breath. His eyelids fluttered, then closed for a moment. It felt so good… He felt his torso begin to sway. He didn't even notice when his body hit the tough ground behind him, his head resting unusually against the flattened grasses. Sleep had ensnared him long before night fell.

When Naruto awoke, a heat upon his eyelids warned him that of a light outside. It had been dusk when he'd fallen asleep; surely he hadn't slept through the night. Suddenly, the light upon his eyes shifted. A shadow moved slowly across their surface, just above him. What had woken him then became clear, there seemed to be a hand upon his shoulder. It shook him again, gently. He opened his eyes no more than a crack, for the morning light sent pain shooting through them. He could see no more than a blur, but he could make out long, black hair. Was it Sasuke? Had he waited an entire day to wake him? It had happened earlier in the week.

"You'll catch cold sleeping in a place like this." The blur said. The voice was soft, gentle; it was very definitely not Sasuke. Curious, Naruto sat up, returning to the position he'd been in before his narcoleptic episode. He brought one hand up to wipe the sleep from his eyes, to prepare them for another long day ahead. Once finished, returned toward his awakener, sitting perched just beside him. A girl, likely around Naruto's own age, she wore a simple kimono without sleeves. A small whirl pattern was the only decoration. Her hair was very straight, black, and ran at least halfway down her back. She was probably cuter than Sakura, he noted.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. His throat remained dry from the previous day. The girl smiled at pointed across his body, toward a small basket a few meters away.

"I'm here collecting herbs for cooking and medicine," she explained, "and you're lying right on top of my key ingredient." Startled, Naruto looked at the patch of grass he'd fallen asleep in. There were a few strangely shaped leaves, with an almost saw-like serrated pattern around their edges. He picked one from the ground, root and all.

"This plant is medicine?" he asked. He'd never seen such a plant back in Konoha, even though they had a far greater variety of plant species. Being situated in a forest didn't hurt their numbers.

"Yes it is," she said, taking the plant from Naruto, "thanks for helping out." He watched her place it with a number of different roots and leaves, very few of which he could recognize from training. They weren't very far from Hi no Kuni, yet things were so very different in this country. The world was still such a vast place… Looking back toward the girl's face, he tried to clear his throat before speaking again.

"You sure are working early, lady." He said. It was all he could muster. He didn't even know what time of morning it was, so it was likely the most idiotic thing he could have led with. He had just woken up, he remembered. Things could have gone worse.

"You too, what are you doing here at this time of morning?" She replied. Good then, it was still morning. His internal clock was not completely shaken by his erratic sleep schedule. Once he'd finished mentally praising himself he moved on to the girl's question, a large smile fixing itself upon his face.

"Training!"

For a moment then, a silence had passed between the two. The only audible sound was a faint wind rustling the herbs at their feet, the leaves high above them.

"That headband…" The young girl said, almost in a whisper. "You're a shinobi, aren't you?" Naruto's smile dwindled. He knew now of the deep-seated fear held by the people of this country for shinobi, the atrocities committed in the name of power, the name of control. To this girl he was no more than a murderer, no better than the Demon Zabuza himself. He was training himself to become stronger; that much was true. Yet that desire, that need to be strong was one borne from defeat. A need birthed by a world of endless, brutal combat. It was a survival mechanism, one of the many tools of a professional killer. This was the meaning behind the headband, behind the steel he'd sought for so very long. It was a warning. A warning to stay away, to remain safe: that's what these townspeople saw within its polished reflection.

"You noticed…? Yeah, I'm a ninja." The words trickled out slowly, almost painfully. He'd never wanted to take on that persona, it was simply thrust upon him. He'd never expected to find such a reception outside the village, he'd simply… assumed. He'd assumed that shinobi could be heroes, that true power could be used to protect rather than destroy. Yet this was not the world he'd found outside those wooden gates, outside the comfort of home. Hostility lay around every corner. Everywhere there were eyes, trailing his movements, tracking his most minute actions. They were the same judging eyes of every villager in Konoha, eyes that desired only for his failure. Yet as he looked up, peered into the eyes of the girl before him, there was no sign of that spite. Those eyes held no judgment. At first, Naruto was unable to understand exactly what lay behind the dark irises gazing back at him. Even when he realized their truth, he was unable to comprehend it. It was pity; behind her expression lay only anguish, a sorrow born from the deepest empathy. Could she know? Could this peasant, a mere flower girl, peer through the legend and see the truth of shinobi? Before he could open his mouth to ask, she turned away, her cheeks awash with red.

"Wow," she said, "you must be really amazing." Naruto grimaced. Perhaps he had only imagined her expression after all. He had been a fool to assume that anyone was capable of understanding his plight, indeed the plight of all shinobi: of hypocrisy without end.

The same grimace still upon his face, Naruto fell back into a fully seated position. Drawing his knees toward his chest, he let out a deep sigh and sunk his head between his legs. He was passed the point of being emotionally subtle. The conversation had long since drained him of any residual joy. His thoughts seemed to do that all too frequently since he'd become a genin. His eyes drifted toward the ground, to the various herbs and leaves that surrounded him. He watched for but a few seconds as the shadows of mighty trees passed over the small plants, waving back and forth in the faint wind. His eyes darted to his own shadow- completely still- then to his new companion's, who he noticed had moved closer to him. When he looked up, her face was mere inches from his. The shock very nearly knocked him flat on his back. He scuttled backward just a step, to the girl's amusement. She chuckled so softly at his reaction. When she looked at him now, her eyes beamed with curiosity.

"Why are you training, though? You already look plenty strong to me." She said, clearly perplexed. She didn't understand, then. She didn't understand that he had to become stronger, that it wasn't a choice. If he didn't train until he was completely exhausted, until his body screamed at him to stop, he was sure to die. Every second he spent training was out of need, the most desperate need, the need to live. It was a need that went unspoken, he supposed, it was not in itself a reason to fight. He still had the choice not to fight, to run, never looking back to the gates of Konoha. He must have another reason. One that made all of the scorn he faced from the villagers back home, that made all of the pain he faced daily in his training, that made the life of a shinobi in its entirety worthwhile. In his heart, he knew this reason very well. Yet every day that reason seemed more and more like a distant dream, the wish of a naïve child who'd never seen the outside world. It was a reason he should by all means leave behind. Yet without that reason, that impossible dream, he would be nothing: merely a killing machine, mass-produced for war.

"I train… so that I can become the greatest ninja in my village." He said, finally. This was the truth, then, his truth. Regardless of how much and how often he condemned the world of shinobi, his deepest desire was to be the best of them all. He would show them, all of them, that he was their better in every way. His lip curled into a faint grin. Was that not the most wonderful irony? Here he sat, a hypocrite condemning all hypocrisy. There was a word, he thought, to describe such a condition, and it gave him rise even as he thought it: 'humanity.' Clenching his fist, he turned away from the girl of the mist before him. "I'm going to make everyone acknowledge my strength. There's something I have to prove to someone."

Silence encircled the two once more. The wind weaved through the leaves no longer, the branches and rushes about the two of them laid perfectly still. It was the sort of silence one might deem deafening, not without irony. Naruto felt no such annoyance, however, silence had always been a welcome companion. To lay bare one's mission, the core of one's resolve, deserved no less. The perfection of the silence invested the moment with a wondrous essence, a natural divinity. In that moment of silence, Naruto found meaning. Whether or not his companion had done the same, he could never say. The most he could hope was that she might nod along, accepting the response without truly understanding. Yet when he looked upon her face, he discovered something he had not expected to find there. Her eyes were downcast, fixed upon the soil beneath her. A lone flower grew there, amidst more common weeds. Tall and thin, purity embodied in white and blue. It seemed just short of blooming, as of yet incomplete. She stroked it between her fingers, carefully, lips slightly parted. It all seemed so utterly fragile. Without meeting her gaze, without the need to peer into those eyes, he knew her pain. His surprise must have showed on his face, he thought, but he could not help himself. Somehow, in the few minutes the two had spent together, he felt closer to this girl than he ever had his classmates back home. In the moment of silence they shared, there was a resonance, a sense of being truly comfortable. Naruto could only imagine that this was what love felt like, for those lucky enough to find it. Somehow that silence pushed past the necessity of words. In their hearts it was enough to simply be, in silence, together. Only fitting that in the instant he seized it, the purity he so longed for scattered to the wind.

"Is that for you," the girl asked, eyes unmoving, "or for someone else?" Her tone was bleak, but the words still shot through him white-hot. Where there was once peace, serenity in silence, an infernal roiling became his thoughts. Desolation, anger, despair, doubt, all indistinguishable. In the span of two moments, he had nearly exhausted his entire emotional repertoire. Yet his face remained, as always, a mask.

_Shinobi don't have emotions. Emotions are weapons, to be controlled. They are not to be expressed in thoughtless 'bursts.'_ None of his teachers at the academy had ever spoken those words, nor had Kakashi-sensei before they'd left. They went forever unspoken. All children are expected to learn self-control, he knew. Shinobi simply had to learn it faster, sooner than others. _Not everyone could keep up._ Trapped in the infinite cycle of reflection, he nearly missed the faint sound of laughter washing over the clearing. The breeze seemed to return at that very moment, carrying the faint sound above and away from the world of the clearing. Would that the wind could carry away the fury ever encroaching upon his mind.

"What's so funny?" he asked, pointedly. He hadn't meant for it to sound cold, but the question curbed her laughter quite swiftly. When she finally lifted her gaze from the immature flower at her feet, she looked instead up to Naruto. Her eyes were large, he noticed, entrancing. Initially he'd thought them brown, not particularly rich or bright. In fact they were ensconced in grey, a fog that seemed to shift with every subtle movement of the light. They were the eyes of a people, of an entire country, stowed away and concealed beneath impenetrable intrigue. He couldn't have prepared himself for what she said next.

"Naruto," she began, soft as the new breeze, "do you have some one who is important to you?" To say that such an advance was unexpected was to put things lightly. To say that it was completely unwelcome, on the other hand, would have been quite the exaggeration. Naruto was left completely speechless.

"What?" That was all he could muster, after a lapse that could hardly be called brief. This time, she didn't laugh. The mist in her eyes shifted once again, her eyes darting aside to avoid Naruto's own. Her carefree smile tightened, her lips pursed.

"When a person has something to protect; that's when they can become truly strong." Her voice was more adamant than it seemed before. There was an apparent truth there, more so than in her words previous. The doubt it cast over their conversation was quickly overshadowed, however, by a memory.

_Iruka…_ the face of his only friend conquered him; Naruto had only to shut his eyes and there he was. Crouching over him, breath heavy, blood soaking through his vest. He swore he could taste the tears from back then, when they poured forth. The steeled tip of Mizuki's shuriken nearly grazed Naruto's neck. The blood, the rain, the tears… _Don't touch Iruka-sensei._ He would never forget that night. He'd learned what it meant to be a shinobi, to be truly strong. _I'll kill you._ His hand rose to his forehead, tracing the contours of the steel he'd earned that day. It was the same against Zabuza when Kakashi-sensei had been captured, a few days previous. He could only imagine the case had been the same for Inari's father. _He wanted to protect the city that he loved._ The repercussions of his actions never mattered, it likely never crossed his mind what Gato would do. All that mattered, every time, was having the strength to protect what mattered most. Without that, being a shinobi would be worthless. He couldn't imagine what such a life, wagering everything and saving nothing, could be worth to anyone.

"Yeah. That I understand, more than you can ever know." He replied, his voice low enough to bring a certain solemnity to the fore. For the second time that day, the two companions shared in beautiful silence.

The girl rose moments later, without a word. Her basket gripped tight in her hand, she stepped fluidly through the thick grass. When she reached Naruto, she placed a hand upon his chest. Her smile was radiant, as it had been before all their talk of training. When she looked down at him, her eyes were entirely mist, the brown lost in the shadow of some tree.

"You will become strong." She said. Once again, he could feel the truth in them. It didn't matter that she was just a girl, innocent of all things shinobi: she truly believed what she was saying. Naruto was beginning to find that sentiment less and less common, yet for that he only appreciated it all the more. He barely felt her hand as she turned away, making for the opposite end of the clearing. He'd never seen her arrive, but she seemed to be leaving in the same direction he soon would be. As he began to stretch, raising his arms overhead, he noticed the girl begin to slow. She stopped walking just before she came to the forest's edge. "I'm a boy, by the way." Naruto's arms dropped, slack, to his sides. He'd thought she was cuter than Sakura! The realization brought his thinking to a complete halt. There were no words, he thought, for his current situation. There were a few for what might have happened if their meeting had progressed a tad further, but they weren't worth mentioning here. As he departed, Naruto realized he had never asked the boy his name. He made a mental note to always ask the name of any future natives of Nami no Kuni he took a liking to. The confusion plain on his face, he barely noticed when his androgynous friend crossed path with his slightly less androgynous team member, Sasuke, returning for further training. They would be making the journey to Tazuna's bridge early the next morning, he knew, so this would be their final day of preparation. Sakura and Kakashi-sensei were more than happy to protect the architect in the meantime, leaving the boys one day and one night to climb their respective trees. Naruto sighed, watching as Sasuke shot a backward glance at the taller boy leaving with his basket. In the few seconds it took him to reach the clearing's heart, the spiky-haired shinobi finished the few stretches he performed every morning. His expression was the same as it had been the previous morning and every morning before, nothing but disdain. His eyes darted downward once before resting on his partner's face.

"You've got something." He said out of the corner of his mouth. Hands squarely in his pocket (again, as always), he strutted off toward his tree without another word. When Naruto looked down, he couldn't help but smile. Bringing his hand to chest, he clasped what lay upon it with a tenderness he never knew lay inside him. Slowly drawing the stem from the fold of his coat, his eyes washed over every inch of its perfection; purity in blue and white. He laid it gently inside his pouch, pilfered a single a kunai from within, and removed the small sac from his leg. Turning his head, he fixed his gaze upon the highest notch he could see. Tightening his grip on the kunai, he took off at full tilt. The wind was blowing.

It was hours before the two so much as glanced at one another. Every moment looking astray was another one wasted, each additional heave of breath a precious second forever lost. Yet glance they did, at the trees, toward the sky. Their bodies were failing, but their resolve had never soared so high. The tallest branches were within reach; the sky was less a limit than a benchmark.

_And it's so close._ Naruto thought. His lungs were straining for air, his arm fastened to the ground by the weight of his kunai. The smallest movement was a titanic labor. When he tried to regain his footing, his knee gave out beneath him, slamming against the ground with all his weight. The strain to curse until his voice was hoarse nearly ensnared him. He couldn't let Sasuke know how bad it was. Biting down upon his lip until he tasted iron, he closed his eyes. He was stronger than this, so much stronger when he closed his eyes. His waking dreams, the specters that haunted his dark eyelids, always showed him the same future: the responsibility of a nation, the trust of a people; the strength of a God… Why did this body limit him so? In the back of his mind he knew, he knew that they all must have felt like him. Every shinobi, great and small, had once been a child. But that wasn't enough; it wasn't a real excuse. He knew he could be better than all of them, smarter, wiser, faster. There was no end, no limit if he so desired. That was what his eyes always told him in these tranquil times, when he could be alone within himself. The wind was long dead now, the evening had swept its calm wing atop the clearing. The fog hung in the midst of the wiry branches, thick, unmoving. The white of the moon was the only light left to swear by, the stars swallowed by the grey mass that haunted the country's every waking moment. When the words came to mind, Naruto couldn't help but chuckle. When he opened his eyes, his gaze wandered up his tree for what must have been the thousandth time. Perhaps it was more than a thousand, he mused. The two had been coming back for days, after all. Every single notch told a different story, some monuments to his willpower, other colossal reminders of his humanity. There was a balance, here in this wood. Some force of nature that brought him unparalleled focus.

"What are you laughing about?" Came Sasuke's voice, so quiet he might not have heard it were the world not so very still. His teammate was doing his best to hide it, but the wind whistled and wheezed in his throat when he inhaled. The legendary Uchiha was human after all. Naruto almost wanted to laugh harder.

"Just thinking about what the storytellers might say about a night like this, after I become Hokage." He replied, without turning to face the other boy. He didn't expect him to laugh quite so loud as he did.

"You were right to laugh," he said, "that is funny." Naruto wasn't even mad. After the briefest silence, the howls of their laughter rang through the glade. It lasted but a few seconds, before the pain of breathing knocked both onto their backs, coughing, but it was enough. As long the two had known each other, as long as Naruto had devoted himself to catching up, it felt for the first time as though the two were on equal footing. Long past the point of exhaustion, hardly able to speak without coughing up phlegm, the two seemed a perfect pair.

"What I meant," Naruto continued, after their rather jovial pause, "is that this whole situation screams cliché, doesn't it?" Taking a deep breath, Naruto choked back the heat rising in his throat. He took Sasuke's silence to mean that he didn't quite understand. "No wind, black skies, a moonlit night of training?" He rolled his head back to look at his teammate, lying a few meters away in nearly the same position, arms and legs spread wide across the freshly dew-laden grass. The last Uchiha was looking straight up, eyes boring a hole in the moon.

"The calm before the storm."

Sleep took the both of them for a time, after that. Naruto couldn't say how long it was before a friendly wake-up call from Sasuke's foot forced him from the night's dreamless embrace, but he did feel rested enough to stand. That wasn't to say that it didn't hurt, that his muscles didn't scream in protest as he stretched them to their utmost. The earth had been rather unyielding on his back. Darkness still cast its shroud over Nami no Kuni; there was time yet. The next few hours would be the most important of the week. Looking to his teammate, he grinned to conceal his difficulty. The shudder in the other boy's leg reassured him.

"Last leg of the race, Naruto. I've heard tell that's the worst time to lose." Sasuke said, his confidence for once in honest jest. Perhaps it had always been a jest, and Naruto had simply been too thick to notice. He'd always been playing the part, cool and arrogant for the world, waiting for someone to peer through. He'd played the part perfectly; he was exactly the push Naruto had always needed. He couldn't help but appreciate the prudence of whoever put together the new genin squads. For all the animosity that could have been, that could have sprouted from their childhood rivalry, they had emerged from the mountain renewed, stronger for their trial.

"Not that you'd know" Naruto shot back, "but you will." Reaching for his pouch, Naruto removed a fresh kunai, bound in cloth of pure white. Every day he needed a new one, after every session he left the grip stained with sweat, sometimes with blood. It dried red and black, staining his weapons with the proof of his labors. He liked it that way. Holding his arm horizontal, his blade parallel to the ground, Naruto raised an eyebrow. "First one to fly?" Sasuke chuckled.

"You got a prize in mind?" He drew his own kunai in the blink of an eye, holding it steady at eye level. The steel glinted in the black pools of his eyes.

"Nidaime." It was practically a whisper, but it was all he needed to say. Without so much as dignifying him with a response, the raven-haired Uchiha shot toward his tree, careening at full speed. This wasn't a fight Naruto planned on losing.

By the time dawn broke, the two had collapsed once again. In place of the ground, both were now perched on the highest branches of their respective trees. It had taken all night, until the horizon had passed through deep crimson unto the scintillating golden rays of morning. Naruto hardly had the time to marvel at the sight, as he used to in Konohagakure. If he was being honest, he didn't mind the change as much as he'd expected. A very cheeky grin played with the marks on his cheeks, then, his mirth so consuming that he dropped his kunai. His gaze followed it all the way to the ground, until the diamond-like blade buried itself nearly to the grip. It was only then he noticed Sakura and Kakashi standing at the clearing's entrance, the former's mouth quite agape.

"He can already climb that high?" she said. Or at least, if she didn't, that's how Naruto chose to interpret her words. His grin consumed his entire face, his cheeks pushing his eyes nearly shut in fox-like glee. Grasping the limb beneath him, he pulled himself into a standing position. Arms crossed tight, chest inflated with pride, he opened his arms wide and shouted.

"What do you thi-" the sensation of falling has a way of causing one to choke on words. He only thought it fit, in acting out his farce, to show some semblance of surprise. When his body swung around, his feet flat against the branch's underside, the shock on his sensei's face was all the reward he could have asked for. "Just kidding!" Much like the boy who cried wolf, however, Naruto soon felt rather differently when his feet slipped from the rough bark. It was one thing to pretend, he noted, and another to be truly in danger. Were it not for the swift action of his spotter, who caught him rather roughly by the ankle, he might just have ruptured some rather integral organs. He nearly ended up in worse shape than Kakashi-sensei. It seemed in that moment as though Sasuke literally siphoned the smile from Naruto's face, the way he was smiling. The spiky-haired shinobi had never seen him with such an expression.

"Never make that face again." He grunted, his tone belying his amusement. When he caught his teammate's eyes, though, there was no mistaking the devil behind them. Naruto's darted to the ground, back to Sasuke's, before returning once more. "I hate you." Before he'd had the chance to sigh, nor even to mentally resign himself to his now-inevitable fate, the vice grip upon his ankle was gone. With a yelp, he threw his legs forward and entered a full aerial somersault. He wouldn't have thought himself up to the task, honestly, but after no more than three full turns he landed on the soles of his feet. He didn't need to see Sakura to know what look was on her face. By the time Sasuke had climbed down the tree, she had already struck him across the face. It did nothing for his grin.

"Why would you do something like that?!" Her flushed face said more than her words, so Naruto simply rubbed his cheek and kept on smiling,

"Looks like it's about time to head back. Tomorrow, you two are going to join us in protecting Tazuna." Kakashi-sensei said, calm as ever. Beneath the mask, Naruto could swear his teacher wore a smile larger than his own. The only potential match was Sasuke's as he placed his hand upon Naruto's shoulder.

"From where I was standing, it sure looked like you flew." Without a further word, the whole group of them returned to Tazuna's hut. Their eyes turned away from the skies, none could have noticed the dark clouds rolling in atop the mist.


End file.
